


What Happens Next

by alicialeila



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:42:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6593440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicialeila/pseuds/alicialeila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I got a visit from your big brother,” Kavinsky said. “He seemed real fucking interested in our <i>relationship</i>.” Ronan couldn’t hide his cringe, and Kavinsky noticed. He leaned closer to Ronan. “What have you been saying about us, <i>sweetheart</i>?” Kavinsky asked, delighted.</p><p>Honestly, Ronan hadn’t <i>said</i> anything to Declan. It was more that he hadn’t corrected certain assumptions that Declan had made. He hadn’t lied; he had just let his brother believe a lie.</p><p>Ronan is forced to confront the truth about the dangerous game him and Kavinsky have been playing. Adam helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens Next

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Vanessa for reading this and encouraging me to post it!

“Lynch!”

Ronan Lynch heard his name being called from across the parking lot of Aglionby Academy. He glanced over to the owner of that familiar voice, who was leaning out of a white Mitsubishi.

“Fuck,” Ronan muttered.

Ronan felt Gansey and Adam’s eyes on him. Neither of them thought very highly of Kavinsky. (Neither did Ronan, for that matter, but for some reason their lives always ended up intertwined anyways).

“Oh _Lynch_!” Kavinsky called out again, voice taunting.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Ronan told Gansey and Adam, before walking towards Kavinsky. He thought he heard one of them say his name, but he ignored it.

“What do you want?” He asked Kavinsky, who was wearing his trademark lascivious grin and white sunglasses.

“Get in and you’ll find out,” Kavinsky replied.

Ronan yanked open the door of the Mitsu, threw himself into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut. He turned to Kavinsky, and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Well?”

“First we go for a ride, princess.”

“Fucking great,” Ronan sighed, and Kavinsky laughed.

They sat in silence as they drove away from Aglionby, until Kavinsky turned up some obnoxiously loud music whose lyrics were definitely not English. Looking out the window, Ronan bit back a smile, because obnoxiously loud music was his favorite kind. He trained his eyes on the passing scenery so he wouldn’t look at Kavinsky.

Kavinsky pulled into some kind of empty field. Without any explanation, he pulled off his glasses and threw them onto the dashboard. He pulled a joint from his pocket. Irritated, Ronan turned down the music. Kavinsky took a pull from the joint, and Ronan pretended not to watch. Kavinsky held out the joint to him in offering, but Ronan shook his head. Surprisingly, Kavinsky didn’t comment.

“You been spreading rumors about us, Lynch?” Kavinsky drawled.

“What?” Ronan asked flatly.

“I got a visit from your big brother,” Kavinsky said. “He seemed real fucking interested in our _relationship_.” Ronan couldn’t hide his cringe, and Kavinsky noticed. He leaned closer to Ronan. “What have you been saying about us, _sweetheart_?” Kavinsky asked, delighted.

Honestly, Ronan hadn’t said anything to Declan. It was more that he hadn’t corrected certain assumptions that Declan had made. He hadn’t lied; he had just let his brother believe a lie.

 

Declan had approached him outside Monmouth one night, not bothering to use Gansey as a go-between, which meant that he was more than angry.

“I thought I told you to stay away from Kavinsky,” Declan said.

“And I thought I told you to fuck off,” Ronan replied calmly.

“This teenage rebellion thing is getting old.” Declan grabbed Ronan’s arm, which was the wrong thing to do. Ronan shoved him away, hard.

“You’re not my fucking _mother_ , Declan. I don’t give a shit who you think I should or shouldn’t see.”

“This isn’t a goddamn _joke_ , Ronan. Kavinsky’s not just an asshole like you, he’s dangerous.”

Ronan thought of Kavinsky’s your-mom jokes and his dumbass sunglasses. “Sure,” he laughed. Declan studied him for a moment, and his anger gave way to something darker, more twisted, more complicated.

“Jesus Christ,” Declan said, exasperated. “Is this about… I mean I thought that you… That Adam…”

Ronan clenched his jaw as his entire body tensed at Declan’s unspoken question. He was the last person in the entire goddamn world that Ronan would have this conversation with and, judging by Declan’s deep frown, this wasn’t a topic he was particularly fond of either. Ronan took a step towards Declan, wearing the most dangerously calm smile he could muster. Declan braced himself for violence, but instead Ronan just stared at him.

“What, Declan?” Ronan asked, daring his brother to put into words what had long been unspeakable.

Declan looked offended, and Ronan knew that he had taken Ronan’s composure as confirmation.

“Really Ronan? Kavinsky? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ronan tried to let the question slide off him, to maintain his practiced indifference. “Bye, Declan,” he said, and turned to go back inside the apartment. He hadn’t spoken to his brother since. But apparently Declan had been pretty fucking chatty.

Kavinsky was still grinning at him, and Ronan snapped back into the moment.

Shit.

“My brother doesn’t know anything about me,” Ronan said, which seemed true enough and also avoided Kavinsky’s question.

“Interesting,” Kavinsky laughed. “He sure thinks he does. And he doesn’t approve.” Ronan hated that he was being embarrassed by Kavinsky, of all people. “Does Dick know?” Kavinsky continued. “Bet he’s jealous.” Ronan rolled his eyes. He was going to kill Declan for running his mouth.

Kavinsky offered him the joint again, and Ronan ignored it. Kavinsky was watching him intently now, an obnoxious little smile still on his face. They sat in silence as Kavinsky finished the joint, and Ronan’s stomach clenched; the air was thick with something that was not the smoke or smell of pot. He felt restless. He wanted out of the car, away from Kavinsky. He needed to think. His pulse raced.

Somehow Kavinsky knew or understood because he flicked the roach of the joint out of the window before starting the car. The drive to Monmouth was shorter than Ronan had expected. Kavinsky parked. Ronan lingered, angry with himself for it. _What the fuck are you doing what the fuck?_

Kavinsky turned to him, his eyes glazed and smile lazy. “There you go, babe. Our best date yet.”

Ronan was pretty used to Kavinsky’s mocking, but this was different somehow. These weren’t stupid, ridiculously impossible jokes about him and Gansey. This was something else entirely; too much, too close, too real.

Ronan leaned in close, arming himself with his most vicious expression. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” He asked pointedly, trying to cut through Kavinsky’s bullshit and leave a mark. But Kavinsky just laughed, totally unaffected by the implication of Ronan’s words.

“I think the better question is _are you_?”

He couldn’t even mutter a retort because Kavinsky’s hand gripped the back of Ronan’s neck and the short space between them closed as Kavinsky crushed their lips together. It was brief; Kavinsky leaned away for a moment to stare at Ronan, maybe to see his reaction. He wore a smug smile, and Ronan wanted to tear it off his face. But then Kavinsky’s gaze slid down to Ronan’s lips and suddenly Ronan was the one pulling Kavinsky’s face to his.

The kiss was hard and intense and reckless, because Kavinsky kissed the way he did everything else. Ronan tried to keep up with the press of Kavinsky’s lips, the warm slide of his tongue. He was almost lost to it, on the brink of losing control.

When Ronan finally got his shit together and pulled away, Kavinsky didn’t look quite so smug. “Damn, Lynch,” he panted, fingers still digging into Ronan’s neck. Ronan broke Kavinsky’s hold, excitement and shame already warring inside of him.

He took a deep breath and exhaled before stepping out of Kavinsky’s car and slamming the door shut.

“Hey, Ronan,” Kavinsky called to him, rolling down the passenger window.

Ronan hoped the cool mask he tried to manifest covered the flush of his cheeks and the unsteady beat of his heart. His anger at his own stupidity threatened to undo him. He looked at Kavinsky through the open window, refusing to say a word.

“Now it’s not a lie,” Kavinsky said, his voice surprisingly grave and empty of its typical humor. That made Ronan angrier than anything else and he turned away. He walked into Monmouth, the squeal of Kavinsky’s tires too loud and impossible to ignore.

Gansey, of course, was waiting for him.

“Ronan,” Gansey said carefully, “what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Ronan asked, his irritation sharpening his voice.

“Your brother called me,” Gansey said. “Declan.” Like Ronan needed the clarification.

“And?”

“And he’s concerned. After that display in the parking lot…”

“Display?” Ronan snorted.

“I wouldn’t bring it up, except that…”

“Except what, Gansey?”

“Ronan, were you just kissing Joseph Kavinsky in the parking lot of Monmouth?” Gansey’s voice was even and polite; unlike Declan, he was trying to leave out the judgment and disapproval. Somehow that made it worse. Ronan felt his heartbeat in his ears.

“What, are you spying on me now? Like Declan?”

“No, God. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”

Ronan’s body felt too small to contain his rage. On any other evening he would have left Monmouth and gone to the streets but he couldn’t risk having to see Kavinsky. He could go to the church, but he figured he would be followed there anyways.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He settled for the privacy of his room, and turned away from Gansey without a word. He prayed that Noah was smart enough to leave him the fuck alone tonight. He hoped Gansey wouldn’t call Adam. Ronan’s stomach twisted at the thought. He was sure that unlike Gansey, Adam wouldn’t censor any judgment or disapproval. _Stop thinking about it just stop,_ he thought. Grabbing beer, his headphones, and Chainsaw, he settled into his bed hoping that he could just drink today away. It worked sometimes. He wandered out of his room to get food at some point, ignoring both Gansey and Noah’s eyes on him.

Later that night he felt the buzz of his cellphone. He closed his eyes. He knew who was texting him without having to look at the messages.

_whats up mofo_

_wait no whats up babe_

_mrs. kavinsky_

_u coming out tonite_

_awwww come on baby not the cold shoulder already_

Ronan let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t angry because Kavinsky was an asshole who couldn’t shut up. Well, he kind of was, but he was angrier at the fact that Kavinsky’s mocking was, really, not mocking at all. They’d been playing this game for a while now, but they’d crossed a line and it wasn’t a joke anymore.

He knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. He was angry and restless, and even with the alcohol in his system he knew his dreams would be impossible to tame. It wasn’t night horrors or hornets that threatened him tonight though; he was afraid of dreaming of pale skin and twisted smiles and a hot mouth on his. Of Kavinsky’s voice reminding him _now it’s not a lie._ He turned up the volume of his music until he was sure that it could drown out the sound of his own thoughts.

He might have dozed, but was startled into consciousness by Gansey’s hand on his shoulder. He was wearing his Aglionby uniform, so it must have been morning.

“Ronan, school.” Gansey looked mildly concerned.

“Nope.”

“Ronan--” Gansey started, but Ronan cut him off with a few loud, fake coughs.

“Sorry, I’m sick.”

“I’m sure.”

“Gansey, just go. Please.” Gansey nodded, his lips pressed together in frustration.

After he heard the door to Monmouth shut, and the Pig start and pull away, Ronan rolled over and figured he might as well try to sleep. At least since he was home alone, it wouldn’t matter what state he was in when he woke up. He pushed away the thoughts that reminded him _that’s not what you’re really afraid of._

He got up in the early afternoon, for food and a hot shower. Later, he heard the sound of the Pig pull up to Monmouth. He hesitated, debating whether he was still avoiding Gansey and Noah. Deciding he still didn’t want to talk to them, he made his way back to his room. Curiously, he heard the Pig drive away again. He sighed in relief. He would face Gansey later.

Except someone was in the apartment. He heard a knock at his door.

“Go away,” he said. The door opened. It was Adam. He stared at Ronan expectantly. “What? You need me to say it in Latin? _Excite._ ”

“Clever.” Adam snorted, unimpressed. “Are you done throwing tantrums yet?” Ronan didn’t dignify that with a response. “Seriously, Ronan? You’re gonna let that idiot keep you away from school?” Ronan wasn’t sure if he meant Declan or Kavinsky, but it didn’t really make a difference.

“Did Gansey ask you to talk to me?” Ronan asked. Adam shook his head. “Declan, then?” That was less likely but he wouldn’t put it passed his brother to use Adam to get to him.

“He asked,” Adam shrugged, “but I told him I wasn’t getting involved in your guys’ shit. It’s between the two of you.”

“Right,” Ronan said, raising an eyebrow. Adam’s presence suggested otherwise.

“I did. Maybe _I_ wanted to talk to you, asshole.”

Adam made his way further into Ronan’s room, kicking away piles of clothes and junk to clear his path. He stopped briefly to pet Chainsaw, and then sat at the edge of Ronan’s bed. Ronan forced himself not to look at Adam,

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s not that bad,” Adam said. Ronan remained silent. Why did Adam think Ronan would talk about this? Adam knew better than anyone that Ronan didn’t talk about shit, because Adam didn’t talk about shit either. “So you like Kavinsky,” he tried again. This, of course, Ronan would react to.

“Fucking hell, I don’t like Kavinsky,” Ronan groaned. It wasn’t a lie. Whatever their relationship was, it couldn’t be described as ‘like.’ Adam seemed to accept that.

“He’ll be disappointed,” Adam muttered darkly. If it weren’t so impossible, Ronan would swear that he heard jealousy tinge Adam’s voice. He swiftly attributed that thought to wishful thinking, before he said or did anything else stupid this week.

Adam’s eyes were on Ronan. Of course, he was still waiting for an explanation for what Gansey saw. Ronan assumed that Gansey had shared that with Adam.

“You wanted to piss off Declan,” Adam guessed. That was true, of course, and Ronan nodded. But it wasn’t the whole truth, just its easiest piece.

“I just…” Ronan started. Some part of him wanted to be brave and reckless and share the not-so-easy truth. “I needed to know.”

Adam didn’t press him or ask _know what?_ He gave a small nod, and finally looked away from Ronan. The flicker of understanding in his eyes made Ronan’s stomach flip.

“Where’s Gansey?” Ronan asked, tired of talking about himself.

“Went to see Blue, I think, with Noah.” Adam shrugged. Ronan searched for a hint of jealousy in Adam’s face, and found only the same amount that Ronan himself felt when he thought about Blue and Gansey. He wondered if any of them would ever start to let each other go even a little bit. He hoped they wouldn’t.

Ronan’s phoned buzzed. He made a sound of disgust but made no move to look at it. Adam reached for it, and scoffed at what he read. “He’s such an asshole,” Adam said. “You really know how to pick ‘em, Lynch.” Adam’s voice was teasing.

Still feeling bold from sharing even a small truth about himself, Ronan raised an eyebrow and said, “Trust me, he’s not my type.” He held Adam’s gaze for a moment. Adam flushed a little, and Ronan felt a flutter of satisfaction.

“Well then,” Adam recovered, trying to keep their light tone, “you’re gonna have to dump him. Let him down easy.” Ronan punched his arm.

He thought of what he would say to Kavinsky, and whether he would even care. Whatever it was that was between them, it wasn’t a lie, exactly, but it wasn’t entirely _true_ either. He was tired of omissions and half-truths. He glanced at Adam. But he wasn’t ready, not yet.

“Come on, Parrish,” Ronan said. “Let’s get out of here.” Because at least when the five of them were together, things were lighter and simpler. For now, that was the truth that mattered.


End file.
